Hartstein: Life’s second chances

Have you ever been given a second chance? Did you seize that opportunity or let it slip away?

I’ve had multiple brushes with near-death experiences, and while each one was a harrowing, spine-chilling experience, they also left me feeling more alive than ever. It’s funny how that works — a near-death encounter leaves you feeling more alive??

That’s why, when I attended last Sunday’s symphony at the Klein Music Tent, I found it more compelling than any other concert this season. The musician performing, Augustin Hadelich, is recognized globally as one of the greatest violinists of our time. His reputation alone is enough to make his music stand out. It’s also one of the reasons I love music so much: Two artists can play the exact same instrument and get completely different sounds and emotions simply by how they hold it, how they play it, and how they use it as an extension of their own voice.

Listening to Augustin play, you’d think it was just his talent coming through the notes. I learned, however, that there is a much deeper story behind the soulful quality of his music. In 1999, Augustin was trapped in a terrible barn fire on his family’s farm in Tuscany, Italy. Though already a child prodigy on the violin, the fire left him unable to play. While he survived the orange blaze, his promising future seemed to have gone up in smoke. Months of recovery slowly became years of surgeries and physical therapy. The violin, his constant companion since age five, remained silent in its case. A child who had once dreamed of playing in concert halls filled with thunderous applause now stared into a future of uncertainty.

It was in this uncertainty, in the abyss of impossible fantasies, that Augustin made the decision to make the most of his second chance at life.

“The accident made me realize, very suddenly, that music was very important to me and maybe I should take it more seriously,” he would later say in an interview.

His brush with death didn’t deter him; it elevated his passion into an unbreakable commitment. When he finally returned to the violin years later, every note was a defiant declaration of purpose. The mindless scales he once practiced became a testament to his newfound resilience. His technique, already recognized as one of the best in the world, became infused with a depth of feeling — a fiery artistry that only hardship can impart.

His resolve led to his future success. He went on to graduate summa cum laude from Istituto Mascagni and was shortly thereafter accepted into and graduated from The Juilliard School.

This is the reason his music stands out. It’s why his notes sounded so unique in a concert hall filled with musicians — they weren’t just played with passion, they were infused with fire. The barn inferno didn’t torch his desire to be the best in the world; it refined it.

This brings us back to the important question from the beginning: Have you ever been given a second chance by life? Did you let it be the spark that ignites your flame or the disaster that kept you from your dreams? I’ll end by asking one more question that I believe is the heart of this story: What part of life can you not live without? What’s the fire in your life that threatens to consume you while simultaneously offering you the chance to forge something new?

We are all given these moments: a missed opportunity, a broken heart, a personal crisis. They are designed to jolt us back into living, to make the most of this day, this breath, this life. Like the mythical phoenix, fire provides an opportunity to rise from the ashes and begin again. May Augustin and his life’s story lead you to the great halls and thunderous applause of your own dreams.

Standing in ovation last Sunday, as his final notes were played, I found myself thinking of the glory in second chances; a glory I’m sure you’ll find awaits us all, when you grab life’s second chances with both hands (like Augustin did with his violin) and use your flame to set the world on fire.

To quote Rock Master Scott and The Dynamic Three: “We don’t need no water let the mother f***er burn! … Burn mother f***er … Burn.” (Love and rain to the Lee/Meeker firefighters).

Thanks for reading my stories and paying with your attention. I hope they make you smile and think.

Landon Hartstein is the founder of AspenDroneCompany.com, a media production company specializing in elevated marketing and strategic solutions for realtors, contractors, and local business. For AI automation and aerial marketing contact him at Landon@AspenDroneCompany.com. To suggest story ideas or just to say hi, contact him at LandonLikeAPlaneWrites@gmail.com.